Night at the Museum: Brooklyn's Curse
by littlecrackedsapphire
Summary: When her family is being plagued by an evil spirit, Brooke must retrieve the cursed necklace her father sent to the New York Museum of Natural History. But it's not as easy as it seems. Life in the city is new to her. How will she react when the exhibits come to life? Will they become friends or enemies? Can she make the right choices? Is there a hidden threat? Post NATM3.
1. Chapter 1: Garage Sale

**My first real fanfic. Please go easy on me :) Being updated most weekends.  
**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own NATM characters, or brand names/etc. used in this fic. Only my OCs.**

 **Enjoy!**

"I think that's it," Brooke declared, wiping her brow with a sense of accomplishment. Anticipating a response, she looked over to her dad passed out in a worn chair. She smiled, and started to pile the old trinkets in the boxes at her feet. As she was looking through a set of memorabilia her dad put in the 'garbage' pile, she picked up a broken frame with a picture of their family. Their complete family. Before the accident. The glass was cracked in half. On one side of the cracked glass was her mother and 23-year-old brother. The other side, herself, her father and her 4-year-old sister. _Why would he put this in the trash_ , she thought. _It must be a mistake. Yeah. He was pretty tired from waking up so early. He probably forgot to remove the picture from the frame._ She carefully took the photo out of the frame and gently placed it in her photo book, halfway full of old family photos. Old memories. _Can't bring Mom and Ryan back. Might as well hold on to the photos._

After bringing down a few boxes, she noticed a box in the corner of the attic, but the box was old and tarnished, so that she couldn't make out the writing. Dad must've forgotten this one. She opened the box to find a jeweled necklace covered in dust. It looked pretty old, and rather valuable. As someone who loved jewelry, she took it upon herself to clean it off while Dad was asleep. _I bet he'll like when I've cleaned it up for him._

After a good hour or so of cleaning, the necklace had a pristine, almost supernatural glow to it. The gems were all of various sizes, shapes and colors, with a large bright red gem in the middle. She placed it back upstairs in one of the piles and dusted herself off, retreating down the tattered wood stairs. _I'll finish sorting through the rest of this stuff in the morning._

* * *

Brooke got up out of bed, rubbed her eyes, and looked at the clock. _10:36. Oh no. I woke up late. Not good._ She quickly hopped out of bed, put on some decent clothes (a featureless blue tee, denim shorts, and converse sneakers) and scrambled out the bedroom door and into the small and poor, yet somewhat charming living room and into the open kitchen. Her long, dark brown, curly hair seemed almost perfect, considering the rough night she had. She anxiously headed to the kitchen. No sooner did she grab the Corn Flakes from the cabinet, almost spill the milk as she poured, and begin to scarf down the cereal, did her father, Mr. Mendosa, emerge from the hallway in a rather formal outfit. He was a tall man with curly black hair and a bit of a beard. Brooke did not notice his presence until she heard his accented voice from behind.

"Forgot to eat supper last night, did we?"

She turned around, face full of milk, and gave an embarrassed smile. She wiped the milk away from her mouth with her shirt collar and finished crunching her most recent bite of cereal before she attempted to speak.

"I woke up early, don't blame me," she said with a playful, yet respectful tone.

"We had spaghetti," he teased.

"Oh, come on, Dad, you probably ate some Goldfish from the cabinet, like you always do." She turned to her breakfast and took another bite before she continued with a mouthful of food. "Do wake me, though, next time we have spaghetti and I'm not there to enjoy it. Oh, by the way, where's Maria?"

"She's at Jace and Wyatt's house again. I figured she wouldn't have much fun sitting around watching me sell things."

"Good call."

There was a bit of silence as Mr. Mendosa grabbed the already opened box of cereal from the counter and started pouring it. Brooke's worrisome expression faded for a moment.

"When did you say the garage sale starts?" she inquired.

"12:00."

As Mr. Mendosa was about to sit down next to his daughter, Brooke's sparkling green eyes flared as she popped her medicine in her mouth and gulped the orange juice down, not caring if her long hair got soaked in her cereal bowl.

"Whoa, what's the rush?" he asked as he was finally lifting the spoonful of flakes up to his mouth.

Brooke took one last swallow, and looked at her father in confusion.

"Do you _know_ what time it is?"

"Let's see." He reached for his old flip phone that was sitting on the counter and opened it. "Oh, Dios mío."

"Exactly!"

He ate his cereal with as much haste as his daughter did. Brooke hurried up the stairs and came back with a fold-up table, and carefully came down the stairs. Unable to hold on to the rails, she missed a step in front of her and fell face first onto the wood stairs, the table skipping down the steps. Mr. Mendosa quickly turned around, hearing the commotion, rushed over, and exclaimed, "What were you thinking!" before realizing his daughter was injured. His tone immediately changed.

"Brooke, are you okay?!"

No response.

He kicked the table out of the way, knelt down, and shakily checked her pulse. He looked slightly relieved and wiped his brow, then attempted to pick her up carefully, so as not to cause any more harm to her already bruised body. He was able carry her over his shoulder, and slowly headed toward the living room, where he gingerly placed her onto the worn leather couch. He scurried to the kitchen and soaked a cool rag to place on her head. Several minutes inched by without a response from his daughter, so he pulled out his flip phone and started to-

"Ugh, what happened," Brooke moaned.

The joyous father closed his phone and came to the aid of his daughter. Though visibly shaken and angry, he came to his senses and composed himself before providing a calm response, so he would not scare her.

"You fell down the stairs and hit your head... You really should have asked me to help. I would have gladly abandoned my cereal to help you. But the important thing is that you're safe." He paused, giving his hazed daughter time to think. "But you shouldn't be carrying things like that on your own, especially down stairs. Heck, even I would have asked for your help-"

"I know, Dad. I'm sorry. I was being stupid."

"You aren't stupid, bebé. You're a very smart girl. You just rush into things without thinking first."

"No, I'm just a klutz."

He looked away for a moment and sighed, for he knew the statement was true. "You feel like standing?"

She slowly sat up, moving her arms and legs around and wiggling her fingers.

"Everything looks fine, cap'n."

"Well, bebé, as much as I would love for you to help me today, I think it would be best for you to rest. You took quite a fall. No need for you to work today."

"But Dad, I promised-"

"Up- no 'buts'. I'll get the neighbors to help." He continued with a pirate voice, his late son's trademark impression. " _When one of me mateys is in rough shape, the cap'n will make do._ " He noticed her sheepish grin and smiled back, Dad feeling confident he turned things around.

"Alright, does this _matey_ still get TV privileges?"

" _Aye. But don't ye be countin' on it next time around_." Mr. Mendosa looked over to the room Ryan once inhabited. He was still with them, somehow.

 **Thanks for reading! I hope you are enjoying it so far! Please review, favorite, and follow if you like it! It motivates me to write more! (p.s. I promise it gets better in the later chapters :))  
**


	2. Chapter 2: Captain Moneybags

As the neighbors rushed in and out of the house with boxes and tables, Brooke couldn't help but check the time on her flip phone. _11:37_. _They'd better hurry._ A minute passed by and she noticed her dad frantically searching for something. She couldn't tell what he was searching for, but he kept asking to check in boxes as the helpers passed by.

"Hey, can I check in that box there really quick? Thanks. ¿Puedo tener esta caja? Gracias."

He headed upstairs past the box-carriers. As she tried to get up to ask her dad what he was looking for, she heard an exclamation of joy coming from the attic. Dad rushed down, holding an old camcorder. Brooke's eyes gleamed with delight.

"Oh my gosh, Dad! Whose is that?"

As he walked past, he let out a deep sigh. Brooke turned her head toward him to see what he was doing with it. A teenage boy with windswept dirty blond hair and wearing a striped green tee and athletic shorts walked by carrying a box.

"Whose is that?" the teen asked.

 _Literally_ _just asked that_ , Brooke thought to herself.

"It was Celia's old camcorder. Was pretty pricey back then, when I bought it for her, but works great, and has great quality for something of its time. Now it's just sitting there, not doing anything. Might as well give it to some collector. Still works pretty good. You know about all this technical stuff, Jace. How much do you think I should sell it for?"

"Oh, 'bout 50, I'd say, for an old one like that."

Dad didn't speak, despite his apparent frustration. Instead, he set the camcorder down and sighed again, as if giving in to an unchangeable fate. An aged, but well-dressed man walked in and asked why the sale was taking so long.

"I'm sorry sir," Mr. Mendosa explained, "you're going to have to wait a few minutes. We're running a little behind."

Jace continued, "Honestly, though, you should get, like, a collector to guess how much it's worth, or som'n like that. I don't really know much about those '90s cams."

Brooke butted in.

"Or, you could give it to your favorite daughter!"

"Nah, it's a little too heavy for Maria to carry."

" _Daaaaad.._ "

"I'm sorry Brooke, but some things have to go. We need money."

"I know," she sighed, giving in.

The old man, who'd been eavesdropping on the conversation, looked away for a moment and spotted the glistening necklace sitting in a box a few feet away among a few other items. He examined the jewels carefully, a grin slowly taking over his face.

"Hey, uh, how much is that necklace over there?" the man asked.

"Oh, sorry, it's not for sale. Go outside and wait for us to finish, please," Mr. Mendosa ordered, frustrated.

"That's unfortunate. I would be more than willing to take it off your hands," the old man said, brimming with delight.

Brooke's father took on an annoyed tone of voice.

"I'm sorry, sir, I am not willing to part with it. It has... sentimental value."

"Will you be willing to part with it for 1 million dollars?"

"Sir, I don't want to-"

The old man reached into a briefcase and pulled out a contract, and simply put it on the table in front of him. Dad mouthed the words in front of him, eyes widening and the movements of his lips slowing with each word, the old man smiling as he watched the Spaniard slowly drift into a state of euphoria. Brooke sat still, her heart pounding heavily as she too drifted from the world around her. _Is this real? Can our sad little lives all change with the stroke of a pen_?

"I don't accept."

 _ **WHAT?!**_

"Sir, the necklace is priceless. It was once given by a Spanish conquistador to a young lover. He wrote about it in a journal of his travels, describing each detail perfectly. I had studied the attributes of this necklace since I was first given the task of finding old artifacts for the Museum of Natural History's new 'American Discovery' wing. That necklace over there matches the description perfectly."

Mr. Mendosa snapped. Attention was drawn to him from every corner of the room.

" _Unlikely story_. I know exactly who you are, _Captain Moneybags_. I can see through that fancy facade and the briefcase and everything. We don't want you here. False claims, false money, false everything! This is just another scam, so _you and your buddies_ can continue to _ride around_ in your _fancy, gilded wheelchairs_ to impress the ladies over at ' _Twin Unicorns Retirement Mansion'_! Oh, I can see it now-"

As Mr. Mendosa angrily rambled, the old man took out his briefcase and opened it up to reveal stacks and stacks of money. Mr. Mendosa shut up quickly, looking embarrassed as hell, but was hesitant to apologize.

"May I?" He reached for a stack of money, after 'Captain Moneybags'' nod of approval. Dad took out a glorious $100 bill from the stack and held it under the light.

"100% genuine," the old man stated. "If you need further verification, we can make a call to the Museum to confirm.."

"Huh-uh. N-No need." He stood in awe as he examined each bill carefully. The old man noticed the crowd around them.

"What are you looking at, there's nothing to see here!" he griped.

Everyone scrambled, and carried the boxes as they were before, some gossiping among themselves. 'Captain Moneybags' leaned in close to Mr. Mendosa's ear and whispered,

"That's just the down payment."

Brooke laid unconscious on the couch. No one really seemed to notice, given the circumstances. Probably dreaming of spending quality time with her father and sister on a luxury cruise, only just days from then.

 **Once again, thanks for reading! Comments and faves fuel my writing, so if you like what you see, please don't hesitate!  
**


	3. Chapter 3: Just About Made It

Brooke was entering the door of her home late that evening, carrying a few books on her side. Her father and sister reached for a hug. Brooke set the books down on the counter beside her and came to her family with open arms.

"Ah, bebé, no more worries!" Her father rejoiced. "It'll all be alright."

"I know, Dad. And Maria, did you have a good day?"

"I sure did. Wyatt and I played video games. I won!" the little brown-haired girl giggled as she hopped up and down.

"Good! Well, I'm glad you had fun." She sighed. "Well, today was... something!"

"Sure was," her father agreed. He noticed the books laid by the counter. "What book did you choose this week?"

"Oh, just... Percy Jackson."

" _Fantabulous_ choice." He smiled at Brooke as if he hadn't seen her in a decade. "Well, how would you feel about... _Olive Garden?"_ he said in singsong.

"YES YES YES! Oh thanks, Dad!" She reached for another hug.

"But, Daddy," Maria pleaded, "Can't we go to Chuck-E-Cheese?"

He looked over at his baby daughter and pondered for a brief moment. "I'll tell you what, next week, when it's your birthday, we'll go to Chuck-E-Cheese, and have a big party, and I'll buy you _double the tokens_!"

"But I want to go _now_..."

"You'll get to go. But we'll let Brooke decide where to go today, OK, bebé, and I promise next week the decision's all yours."

Maria turned toward Brooke and pleaded in rhythm. "Please, please, please, please, let us go to Chuck-E-Cheese!"

"I'm sorry, Dad's right. Wouldn't you rather go to Olive Garden now than on your birthday?"

"I... I guess so..." the girl looked at the floor and pouted like only a child could.

"Alright," Mr. Mendosa stood up. "You girls hop in the car. I'll be just a minute."

As Dad walked away, Maria ran to her room and came out with her favorite stuffed giraffe as Brooke carried the books to her room. The books were labeled 'Conquistadors', 'A Complete History of Mississippi' and 'Jewelry of the Sixteenth Century,' but no Percy Jackson. She set the books in her room and smiled at the new camcorder she had, deciding to take it with her. She rushed out to the car, but was careful with her new device. She sat in the front seat and decided to turn it on and start recording her sister behind her.

"What is that?" Maria asked.

"It's a camcorder," Brooke responded.

"What does it do?"

"It makes videos."

"Does it make boring videos or funny videos?"

Brooke stifled a laugh. "Depends."

The door on the opposite side of her opened and her father climbed in. She pointed the camera at her father's face as he fastened his seatbelt. He looked over to find a big lens staring him in the eyes.

"Okay, stop that now. Why'd you bring that thing anyway?"

She shut the camera off and imitated an English accent. " _I wanted to document our adventure_."

"Wouldn't you rather ' _document our adventure_ ' with a new camera.. you know, one that doesn't weigh 10 pounds? I could certainly get you a new one-"

"-No thanks. This one's good." She smiled as she put it under her seat and buckled her seatbelt. They drove away.

* * *

It was late at night. Brooke had put on a comfortable black sleeping shirt- one of her mom's - and some gray sweatpants with a black waistband. She was laying in bed, looking over her videos, when she stumbled upon some that she didn't record. One was with the camera pointed at the kitchen counter covered in cake mix. Brooke heard a familiar female voice on the video.

 _"Oh, look at this. I wonder what little pirate did this."_

 _A six-year-old Brooke came into the view with hands and face covered in chocolate._

 _"'Twas me," Brooke exclaimed, making claws with her hands and then proceeding to lick the chocolate off her fingers. Her brother came into the camera view._

 _"Swab the deck!" young Brooke teased._

 _He grabbed the cloth lying on the counter and started to clean for a brief moment, then focused his eyes into the camera._

 _" Aye, cap'n, but don't ye be blamin' me when it's yer turn," he remarked, and continued to clean._

Sixteen-year-old Brooke turned off the camera, desperately trying to hold back tears but smiling all the while. She closed it and pondered for a while, then began looking through her library books. _'Jewelry of the 16th Century.' This ought to have something in it._ She started to look through the pages, filled with various pictures and descriptions of historical jewelry. None of them, so far, matched with the one her father sold that day, but a few shared similar features. As she read, she heard a scream coming from her father's bedroom, followed by her sister crying. Her heart began to race.

 _What do I do? What if there's a murderer? Should I call 911? Who would I go to first, Dad or Maria? She should NOT have to see something like this, not at her age. Is this it? Is our beautiful life we've only so far dreamed about never going to come true? I hope they're okay..._

She decided to grab her flashlight and slowly crept through the hallway. She saw nothing out of the ordinary. This was one of the few moments where you usually don't get to sit and think, not for more than a second or two. You just _do_.

She finally made her way to her father's bedroom when her little sister came out of hers, crying. Brooke leaned down to caress Maria, and shushed her. "Go back in your room," she whispered, "You'll be safer there."

"But what about Daddy..."

Brooke could deliver no promises at this moment. All she could do was tell Maria to stay safe. Stay hidden. No 'Daddy is alright'. No 'we're all gonna be fine.' She couldn't make a promise like that if she couldn't guarantee it. "I'm gonna go check on Daddy to see if he's alright. I want you to go in your room. Daddy would want you to. Think you can do that for him?"

"Mhmm." She sniffled and wiped the tears from her eyes, even knowing for herself that her sister knew better than she did.

Brooke slowly opened the door. _Best not to startle him._

"Dad?" she spoke quietly, but did not whisper.

He did not speak. She turned on the lights. He was sitting up in his bed, unresponsive.

 _Good. He's not dead. That's a relief._

"Dad?" She walked towards him. "Are you okay?" _What if he's having, like, a stroke or something! I don't know how to deal with that!_ He mouthed something unintelligible. "What? Dad... can you speak? Tell me what's wrong!" She pleaded in a soothing but worried tone. He mouthed the words again. "Should I call an ambulance? Or the police or something?"

* * *

"And she was gone, just like that," he explained, sitting on a plush maroon chair in the corner of a bland ER room.

"It was just a bad dream," the medic explained as she handed Mr. Mendosa a cup of coffee.

"But it wasn't. It was more real than life itself."

The doctor looked up from her clipboard her eyes had been glued to for the past hour. "Look, Mr. Mendosa. It's perfectly normal for someone who recently lost a loved one to dream about them."

"But, Doctor. It was about the..."

The doctor looked at him with interest.

"Nevermind," Mr. Mendosa said.

The doctor nodded, for she understood that he wished not to share. He took a sip of his coffee.

"I recommend seeing a therapist or psychologist."

He looked at the doctor with slight contempt. She pretended to ignore and wrote the prescription, giving it to the nurse. "You should be fine tonight. But you shouldn't continue to let your heart strain itself too much. Get some good rest and make sure you exercise, but only when you feel like it. That always helps with depression."

Mr. Mendosa put his head in his hand and sighed.

"Does your daughter have a license?"

"No, but she has a permit."

"Alright, that's good enough. She will have to drive you until you've calmed down." The doctor headed toward the door. "Well, that's about it. If you have any further complications, come back. You'll also need to have follow-up visits with your regular doctor just to be on the safe side."

"Thank you Doctor," he replied. He got up and sluggishly walked toward the door. As he went into the lobby waiting room, he saw Brooke watching the television and eating cookies, with Maria fast asleep in her lap. Brooke looked up at her father.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Yeah. We'll talk about it on the way home. Come on, let's go."

* * *

Brooke carefully carried her snoozing little sister in her arms as her father opened the back door of their car for them. She buckled Maria in and headed for the driver seat. After they were all buckled in, they headed out, and were silent for most of the trip. Her father started to whisper, so he wouldn't wake the girl behind him.

"I know I don't normally talk about my dreams," Dad admitted, "but this was different. This was... real."

"How so?"

"Your mother...she always appears cheerful in my dreams, usually playing with you or Ryan or little Maria, but this time was different. She was tired. She was depressed. She was _scared_."

"Of what?"

"The necklace."

Brooke's eyes widened. "The necklace?"

"Or - really - who possessed the necklace."

"Wasn't it, like, some conquistador's wife?"

"His lover. I remember years ago, my mama gave it to me. She said I was the seventh generation to receive it. That it had been passed down for years and years. She told me all about how his lover thought she had been cheated on and secluded herself for many years, filled with rage and hatred. But she still held onto the necklace, until it was stolen. She found the woman who stole it and killed her, then killed herself."

Mr. Mendosa stopped talking for a moment, but saw the interest in his daughter's eyes and continued with the story.

"My mother said that whoever possesses the necklace cannot get rid of it, like the man's lover didn't in the legend, only able to pass it on to the next generation. If it is no longer in the possession of the last wearer or immediate family, she will give them a miserable life. But she does not have the power to kill. Not unless you lose your will to survive."

The car ride was silent for most of the way, until Brooke had something on her mind. "Dad?"

"Yes, bebé?"

"How come you didn't tell me about this?"

"...I didn't want to tell your mother. Though I wasn't a superstitious person, she very much was and I did not want to scare her. I didn't tell you, because, well, I know you're a very curious person. I didn't want you to get involved with such a tale until you were older."

There was a pause in the conversation.

"Hey Dad?"

"Yes?"

She sighed, keeping her eyes on the road. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

"...No... Why do you ask?"

"No reason."

"Mhmm."

* * *

It was about 3 a.m. when Brooke had finally laid down to go to sleep, but it wouldn't be easy. Not after those past 24 hours.

 _Maybe the doctor was right. Maybe he did just have a bad dream. That's right. It happens all the time when someone loses someone they love. The whole necklace thing is just a coincidence._

She had had her eyes closed for about 10 minutes when she jerked awake, eyes wide in fear.

 _Oh no._

 **Hope you liked this chapter!  
**

 **Just a reminder that I don't really have a schedule for updating but I'll try to post a chapter each weekend :)**


	4. Chapter 4 - Taking Action

Brooke poured yet another bowl of cereal, her face nearly falling in the milk as she struggled to stay awake. Her dad walked in the open kitchen/living room in his striped green pajamas, facing the same problem. He noticed Brooke's fatigue.

"You too?" he sighed.

"Yeah," Brooke responded. "I really wish we had that damned necklace back."

"Language," he scolded.

"Sorry," she apologized, "But if you think about it, it's kinda true."

"Mm." he grumbled as he walked to the coffee machine and poured himself a cup of coffee. He spilled the piping drink all over his hands and shirt. "Shit."

She almost echoed his earlier remark, but instead thought better and just finished her cereal.

"You know," her father suggested, "Maybe we should go somewhere."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, on a vacation. We haven't been anywhere in ages, and we certainly have the funds.."

She looked up from her bowl. "You really mean it?"

He nodded. "Of course. I don't know about you, but I'm eager to get away for a while." He paused. "What's wrong? You don't seem too excited..."

She stirred the cereal with her spoon, staring at it. "Yeah, yeah, I am." She sighed. "I'm just thinking..."

"Thinking what?"

"That maybe what you said was right."

"The legend?"

"Mhmm."

"Well, Brooke, we're just going to have to put that behind us. You shouldn't worry." He said this with such an expression that implied he was apprehensive, also. It's not easy to hide fear.

They heard a shrill screech, followed by a blaring alarm.

"DAAAAAAAAAADDDDDDYYYYY!"

 _No. No. NO._

The weary father received an adrenaline rush and hurried to over to Maria's bedroom as she rushed out the door into her father's arms. Brooke peered over her shoulder, concerned about the crying child.

"THERE"S A FIRE!" Mr. Mendosa screamed, noticing the smoke coming from inside. He stood up and carried Maria toward the front door. "WE GOTTA GET OUT!"

Brooke, without thinking, rushed into her room.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING? COME ON!" He anxiously waited for her to escape with them.

"I'm getting some stuff!" She came out with a black duffel bag and sped out the front door with her family.

* * *

"Well," the fireman said, wiping his brow, "It's out, but there's quite a bit of damage."

"Oh, Dios mío." Mr. Mendosa sat down on the ground and sighed, covering his face with his hands.

"How did it happen?" Brooke asked, devastated.

"We don't see any reasonable cause. It could have been anything. We're suspecting arson. We'll get someone more experienced to look at it. But, just to be safe, we'll have to ask that you stay somewhere else for the time being." The fireman walked away and talked to his fellow heroes to give the family some room to cope.

"Brooke," her father finally asked, "Why did you grab that bag?" He looked at the black bag she was holding.

She opened the bag to reveal clothes, books, the camcorder, several family photos and some of the money. "I had already packed... I was planning to go to New York... to get the necklace back. I was going to ask you, of course."

"Oh, bebé..." He looked up at Brooke, until Maria came into his arms and started crying. He caressed her. "We'll talk about this later, okay?"

Brooke surrendered, knowing that the young girl needed no more excitement.

* * *

With Maria and the others in another room of their friends' house, Brooke and her father were free to discuss.

"-No, Brooke," her father interjected.

"But Dad..."

"Look, I don't want to spend the rest of our money on the flight and the hotel and everything. What makes you think you can just waltz up there and take it from them? Do you even have a plan?-"

"Yes, Dad, this time I do."

Brooke's father stared at her in surprise.

"Hear me out. I've decided I'll go up to the museum, and I'll convince them to give the necklace back, and give them their money back."

"Brooke, I've already spent some of the money. We can't just give _some_ of it back, we're already in serious debt as it is. I signed a strict contract for that necklace-"

"-I got a job."

"You _what_?!"

"I applied for a job there... As a night guard."

Mr. Mendosa simply sat down, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples.

"I've already filled out a form and scheduled an interview and everything. It's the day after tomorrow."

"Oh, Dios mío."

"I wanted to get there before the necklace goes on display."

"That money won't cover all our flights, and hotel expenses."

She fixated her eyes on the ground. "I was _actually_ planning on just going myself." She looked back at her father. It's okay. You can give me the money to go there, for the flight, and I'll stay with uncle Joey. I'll make the money back, I promise."

"Brooke, we need to be together-"

"-Dad, I've thought this through. You should stay here and take care of Maria. You've already got a lot to deal with, here. I don't like to see you suffer. I don't like to see Maria suffer. I don't want to watch as our family slowly falls apart. We could hardly hold ourselves together before. You're right; we do need to be together. We need to be _whole_. We need to be _complete_. Please listen to me... You _do_ trust me, don't you, Dad?"

Her dad did not speak. Instead he headed for another cup of coffee.

"Dad?"

"..Yes, honey. I _do_ trust you..."

She watched her father and braced for his imminent refusal.

" I'll try to get you a flight."

" _YES_ ," she squealed with delight, then cleared her throat, promptly assuming a sophisticated demeanor. "Thank you for understanding."

"I'm sorry if I seem a little bit overprotective. I just care about you. I... I'm scared for you out there, alone in the big city."

"I won't be alone; I'll be with uncle Joey."

"Not much of a difference there," he joked, smiling for the first time in quite a while. They shared a good moment for once within that day of hell.

 **Sorry this chapter is so short, there'll be a few of those as the story goes on. But I do my best :) And feel free to review and to post ideas and corrections! (I appreciate all help!)**


	5. Chapter 5 - New York, New York

"Are you sure you have everything?" Mr. Mendosa asked.

"Pretty sure. Got all the necessities: Camcorder, check, books, check, MP3 Player, check, DVDs, check."

"What about the other stuff, like, I don't know, clothes, a suit for your interview, phone, medicine..."

"Oh. I got all that too."

"Well, OK. I contacted Uncle Joey. Here's his number if you need it. He'll be meeting you at the airport in New York." He handed Brooke a slip of paper.

An announcement came over the intercom. "Flight 715 to Atlanta, Georgia now boarding at gate 17."

"Well, that's my flight."

"Can I have a hug?" Maria pleaded.

"Of course, I don't see why not." She hugged her with all the love a sister could carry.

"What about me?" Her father teased.

"And why would I forget you," she said with all seriousness as she reached for a hug from her father. He would not release her from his tight grip.

"If it ever proves to be too much for you, just give me a call..."

"I'll be fine." She struggled to break free. "You're kinda choking me."

"Sorry, sorry," he said, letting go. He didn't know his own strength, it seemed, especially at times like these.

"Take care of Maria for me."

"Will do. I'll be praying for you."

"I'll be praying for you too. Well, I'll be off," she said, starting off.

"And Brooke?"

"Yes, Dad?" she groaned.

"Call me as soon as you get to New York."

"Alright, goodbye." She hurriedly turned away, eager to board the flight.

"Goodbye, bebé," her father muttered, as though he was speaking to himself.

* * *

This would be Brooke's first flight, so of course she was rather tense, yet enthusiastic. She would never have been so far away from her family before, let alone far away from home. There weren't many people on her first flight, which made it a little easier on her nerves. She tuned in to the safety lecture and, as the plane took off, gazed out the window in awe at the ground getting smaller as she rose hundreds of feet in the air. After the plane had taken off, she reclined back in her chair. She then proceeded to pull out her MP3 player and turn to her best indie playlist. Nothing could make this day better. With excitement in her eyes and adventure in her sights, she headed off into the clear blue summer sky on a mission.

* * *

Brooke woke up to see that the second flight had successfully landed and that everyone was grabbing their carry-on luggage. For once in quite a while, she had slept peacefully and eagerly arose from her seat. It was very early in the morning, and most people weren't used to waking up so early, so the atmosphere was a bit dull, but Brooke was used to staying up all night reading, so she was energetic and ready to face the world... at 5 in the morning. She grabbed her bag and headed to the exits. She anxiously entered the airport.

 _Okay, I haven't seen Uncle Joey in a while. Dad said he'd be holding a sign with my name on it, so even if I don't recognize him, at least I'll know who he is._

The airport was bustling with strangers, unlike anything Brooke had ever seen. This was even busier than the Atlanta airport, the largest airport in the country. She'd been to state fairs with fewer people. She spotted a sign with her name on it. Standing behind it was a well-groomed and well-dressed man with slick brown hair and a young, square face.

 _He's definitely changed. I should have worn something a little more appropriate..._ She stared down at her ripped jeans and Converse sneakers in disapproval.

"Uncle Joey?"

"Brooke? Is that you?"

"Heh, yep."

"Wow, you've grown. How old are you?"

"I'm 16." Since they hadn't seen each other in several years, and because of their past, things were a bit awkward between the two.

"A little young to be coming to New York on your own. And really young to be going to college! You must be as smart as your father brags."

 _College?_

"Yeah," she blushed, "I, uh, got classes starting this week..." She attempted to explain why she would most likely be away at night.

"Really? Well, your father told me you just came to get familiar with the city and get an internship."

 _Oh, shit! It's summer... Why didn't my father tell me what he wanted me to say? ...Maybe he just forgot._

She was caught in a blank stare.

"Hello? Earth to Brooklyn?"

She snapped out of it.

"It's okay. I understand if you're a bit nervous. I was, too, when I first moved here." He winked.

She showed a sign of relief, yet still hated that her father had to lie. He was obviously more skeptical of his brother-in-law.

"Well, whaddya say we head over to the apartment?"

"Sounds good."

They got through security and baggage claim. Brooke was silent most of the time. After she claimed her luggage, they walked out to the garage. While walking, she spotted a white limousine up ahead.

"Fortunate soul," Brooke remarked.

He simply nodded and kept looking forward. They continued walking until they stopped at the aforementioned limo. He pressed a button on the pad on his keychain, and the white limo flashed its lights and played a fanfare.

 _I hate myself._

He opened one of the doors in the back, put the luggage in, and climbed in the vehicle. Brooke followed behind him. The limo seemed much bigger on the inside. The tinted back windows offered privacy while the white leather seats and flatscreen television provided class.

"Hello, Will. How's it going?" he called at the driver.

"Fine, Mr. Cooley. I just finished level 286 of Candy Crush," the driver said with a Brooklyn accent.

"Splendid. Can you take us to our apartment?"

"Can do. And who's the young lady with you this evening, might I ask?"

"Oh, this is Brooke, my niece. She'll be staying with me over the summer."

"Oh, your sister's daughter?"

"That's correct."

It hit her right at this moment _. He hasn't seen me since the accident. I wonder how he's taken it._

Will turned to Brooke. "Your mother was a kind woman. Had the pleasure of meeting her myself, a few years back. Your father was a very lucky man."

Brooke smiled a little bit, but it didn't last long. Most of the ride was quiet. Brooke attempted to break the silence.

"So, uh, just out of curiosity... how did you..." she tried her best to find the appropriate term.

"Become so successful?" Joey suggested.

"well... yeah..." she blushed.

"Well I had been working all my life, and I was doing pretty well, had 'worked my way up the corporate ladder,' as one would say, but I really wasn't going anywhere. So there was this company up for sale, had made a lot of money in the past, and wasn't really expensive, you know, as far as very successful companies go... So some colleagues and I bought it, and we had some really great ideas for products and such, but my colleagues suggested I be the CEO, you know, 'the public face', and that's how Cooley Devices came to be."

"You own Cooley Devices?!"

"Well, not just me, but my colleagues as well. They just thought my name was the catchiest."

"Makes sense."

"Well, really, it was called Daley Devices, after the original owner, but we thought since there was huge change of ownership, we'd need a name change too..."

"Oh yeah, I remember seeing those infomercials years ago. My dad used to brag about his 'Glow In The Dark Flashlight' that he'd use all the time when there was a storm, or when it was dark out." She snickered. She was obviously warming up again to the uncle she was once so close to as a child.

"Yeah. Mr. Daley and I became good friends, too, and would pitch me ideas. But he never requested payment, strangely. In fact, he denied when I insisted he be paid for his input. He sold his company to work as a night guard in some museum he worked in years ago. Didn't make sense to me, but it's his decision, so I trusted he made the right one."

 _Hey... That's the same job I'm going to have! Maybe I could go to him for some pointers._

The driver turned on the radio.

"Ooh I love this song! I can't believe it's on the radio, actually!" Brooke remarks.

"Wow, so do I!" the driver responded.

"You _know_ this song?"

"Sure do!"

"You, sir, have a great taste in music."

"As do you, young lady."

There was a bit of relative silence as Brooke mouthed the words to her song.

"Brooke?" Joey asked, a look of regret on his face.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry I wasn't there. For Christmas, Thanksgiving, or... even as a friend. When you needed me."

 _Wow. He really has changed._

"I was just so caught up in my own success. I couldn't bear the thought of being poor again. But now that I've made it I realize... I wasn't a very good Uncle."

Brooke looked at him earnestly, and waited a moment to speak, so she could find the right words. "It's okay. I think anyone would have done that. I think it's a very brave thing to apologize. Not a whole lot of people realize what's important, even after they've become successful."

"Thank you... That really means a lot to me..." He nodded and smiled as they pull up to the complex.

Will exited the limo and opened the door for them. Joey noticed his niece had a newfound respect for him, and exited the limo with both pride and satisfaction.

"Thank you, William."

He got back in the driver's seat and drove the limo toward the parking area while Brooke and Joey headed through the revolving doors. The lobby was extensive and bustling, with massive chandeliers hanging from the twenty-foot ceiling, and people constantly coming and going. The floor was carpeted with green floral designs. The people at the desks were constantly answering calls or dealing with clients. Brooke was, once again, rather intimidated by the crowds of people. Her Uncle Joey must have noticed, for he cast her a reassuring smile as they headed toward the elevators.

The elevator ride was rather long, considering the fact that they got off at the top level. Still, for 73 floors, the speed was impressive.

They exited the elevator, and into an empty hallway, with nothing but a door in front of them and windows on either side of the hallway. The hallway turned at the windows, suggesting that there were probably other rooms on the floor. Joey slid a keycard into the slot by the door and opened it, holding the door for Brooke.

"Thank you."

They walked into a modern dream - an open room with marble floors, marble ceilings, classy yet contemporary arrangement and warm-colored wooden and leather furniture, complete with pool table, glossy black grand piano and an entire wall of glass overlooking the cityscape- the whole shebang. It was difficult for Brooke not to squeal with delight.

"Squeeeeeee!"

 _Good job._

"Quite a place, isn't it?" Joey commented.

"I-I've never seen anything like it." She desperately tried to appear calm.

"Make yourself comfortable."

She sat down in one of the leather seats, and tried to recline it. To her surprise, there was no lever for her to pull and instead a set of buttons on the side of the seat. She pressed one, expecting the chair to recline. The chair started to massage her back.

"Oh," Joey mentioned, "That chair doesn't recline anymore, just massages. I've gotta get it fixed."

 _Oh_ , she admitted to herself, _I could get used to this_.

* * *

 **SO, chapter 5, huh? And yes, I promise that we get to the museum in Chapter 6. Reviews are always great - the more detailed, the better! Though I understand it's more fun to just read :)  
**


	6. Chapter 6 - The Interview

**I am only a teen and I haven't yet been to a job interview so I hope I portray the scene accurately. Enjoy!**

Brooke woke up from a long nap, sat up on her white king-sized bed, and stared out the window at the bustling city below. She checked her phone.

 _21 messages?_

They were all from her father. 'Bebé, are you okay?', 'Please respond, love you,' and 'I'm worried about you, please answer' occupied the message box. _Oh, God, I forgot!_

She hurriedly entered his number into the keypad and pressed 'Call,' crossing her fingers .

"Brooke, is that you?"

"Yes, Dad, I'm so, so, sorry. I lost my phone, but then I looked through my luggage and found it." She couldn't tell her father she forgot, after she promised she would call immediately once she got there; she figured it would make her seem less responsible, and that he would undoubtedly send her home.

"Yes. Joey told me you arrived. Don't worry about it. I'm glad you're alright."

She was relieved, still feeling slightly guilty.

"So, how is New York?"

"Ahh, it's great! Uncle Joey is really nice. He's really changed since you last saw him."

"I'll believe that when I see it."

She sighed and rolled her eyes. Fortunately, her father wasn't there to see. "Anyway, how are you and Maria?"

"We're doing alright. I didn't sleep at all, but was pleased to see that Maria had a full night's sleep and is back to her old, sweet self again."

"That's great! I slept well too, on the plane. I hope you sleep well tonight."

"Hopefully so. Hopefully you and your sister will continue to sleep peacefully."

"I'll say a special prayer."

"I will too."

"Well, I gotta get going. My interview shouldn't be long from now."

"Alright. Well, I'll talk to you later. Maybe sometime tomorrow."

"Looking forward to it. Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

Brooke stretched, and checked the time on her phone.

 _I've gotta get to the museum!_

* * *

Brooke arrived at the museum in her most formal outfit: a white blouse with black dress pants and black heels. For once in quite a while, she was wearing her rounded glasses with a pink rim. The museum was rather large on the outside, with several wide steps leading to the revolvable glass doors. There were banners on either side of the entrance and a regal statue in front of the main building. The windows were tinted and nothing could be seen from the outside of the museum.

She took a deep breath, then marched into the museum. It wasn't extremely busy at the time, only a few kids with their parents and a history enthusiast here and there. A T-Rex skeleton and a Teddy Roosevelt wax statue on top of a horse, complete with his signature hat and a sword in the air, awaited her at the entrance. She was already beginning to feel welcome only a few steps into the building. Images of her family goofing off at the small hometown museum she was once so familiar with crossed her mind. The atmosphere was new, but warm. It was reassuring. Brooke examined the interior, gaping in awe at the expansive main room, and walked up to the red, circular reception desk.

"Excuse me, ma'am, can you tell me where I can find.." She pulled out a paper from a folder she was carrying and examined it. "um, Dr. Leslie McPhee?"

"Oh, yes, right this way."

Brooke followed the docent down a hallway on the right side of the building. When they arrived, the docent knocked on the door. "Dr. McPhee, someone wants to see you."

"I told her," a voice hissed from behind the locked door, "I'm working on it! Tell her to leave me alone." The man's angry voice made poor Brooke jump.

The docent shook her head doubtfully. "I'm sorry, he's not available right now."

"Please, tell him it's Brooke. I'm here for a job interview. I'm applying for the night guard position."

"She says her name is Brooke and she's here for an interview," the docent announced. They stood and waited for a response, then found the door being unlocked and opened from the inside.

"Please forgive me," McPhee apologized. He seemed an absolute mess; his black tie was unraveled, his brown hair was messy and he looked like he hadn't slept for days. "Come on in."

The docent turned back to the desk as Brooke entered the office. Papers and portfolios were strewn across his desk, yet on the wall were several gold plaques and framed awards bearing his name.

"Please, sit down," McPhee offered. He seemed to be in his forties, and spoke with an English accent. "So, what's your name, Miss?"

"It's.. on the paper..."

"I know it's on the paper," his voice rose an octave. "I'm not blind, I can see just as well as-"

Brooke impatiently waited for him to finish. She was, however, clearly intimidated by his frustration. He was apparently a respected man, and it was obvious to her that he wasn't his true self at the time.

The frazzled man took a deep breath and composed himself. "I'm sorry. I-I just can't seem to find good candidates for the job. They're... in limited supply, I guess you'd say. Anyway, I just want to make sure you're who you say you are."

"Oh. I'm sorry. I'm Brooke."

" _Full name_ , please," he demanded, his eyes not wandering away from the paper.

She sighed. "Brooklyn Miranda Mendosa."

"Date of Birth?"

"7-6-2000"

"Alright, that's good enough for me. Now, Brooke on this paper you say you're from Missippi?"

"Um, actually," she pointed at the entry on the paper, "it's _Mississippi_."

" _Missippi_."

" _Mississippi_."

" _Missip_ -

"You see there are four s's"

"I can see that, yes."

" _Mis-sis-sip-pi_."

" _Mis-sip_ -pi, _Mis-sip_ \- _anyway_ , it's rather far away. You don't still live there, do you?"

"Well, no, I'm... staying with my uncle here in New York."

He nodded. "I see you've never had a job before?"

"Well, no, but I've helped at home and at the church with plenty of stuff."

"Mhmm," he nodded. "So, do you have a lot of anxiety, or do you get scared easily?" he asked.

"Not anymore.. I did for a little while, when my mom and my brother died in a car crash, but I've managed well and I don't think that it is an issue anymore."

"Sorry to hear that." He paused for a bit, biting his pen as he read through the papers. "No criminal records. That's always good." He muttered a few things to himself while reading the paper. It took him a minute.

"So... why do you want this job?"

"Well..." She almost spoke, but refrained and thought for a moment, then continued. "I guess you could say I'm a bit of a history geek. And I'd gladly protect anything I love... and... I _love_ history."

McPhee nodded in approval. He grinned for a moment, but then tried to look more professional. "What, to you, would be a decent salary for this position?"

 _Why didn't they teach us more of this stuff in Finance class?_ She sat for a moment and thought. "Oh, I'd say about $12-$15 an hour, but I'd be willing to compromise."

"Excellent," McPhee remarked. "And..." he paused for a brief moment and reached for a cup of tea sitting at the edge of the desk. "What would you do if all the exhibits in the museum, the animals, the wax figures, the dioramas, oh, I don't know..." He stared her straight in the eyes and bore a serious expression. "came to life at night..."

"Oh, um... I don't know." The bizarre question baffled her and threw her off, but her eyes wandered as she imagined the scenario for a little while. _This must be one of those trick questions, or something._ "Well, first of all, I'd... make sure they... got along..." She straightened her posture and, remembering some tips she learned in school, made straight eye contact and continued. "I'd make sure a bunch of guys with guns and swords and spears didn't try to kill each other, or anyone else for that matter. After that, I'd probably.. make friends, or something. It'd be really cool to actually meet these guys."

"Okay," he said, beaming with excitement. "Ahem." He cleared his throat and once again reverted to his deadpan expression. "Are you-are you willing to work an entire night shift, every night?"

"Oh, yes. I mostly sleep in the day anyways..." she confessed. "And I don't really mind working every night."

 _It's not really going to be that hard of a job, right?_

"Outstanding," McPhee rejoiced. He thought long and hard.

"Say you were hired right here and now, when would you be willing to work..."

 _Is he suggesting what I think he's suggesting?_

"Um... well I guess tonight would be ideal-"

"-You're hired!" he exclaimed, shooting up out of his chair.

 _Yep. He sure is._

"Wow, that was.. quick... I think."

"You're exactly the kind of person I've been looking for. I think you would be perfect for the job."

McPhee extended his hand, which Brooke gladly accepted, and shook firmly and enthusiastically.

"Really?"

"Surely. I'm rather busy right now, but come back tomorrow night, and I'll take you on a tour of the place, and walk you through your duties."

"What time?"

"6 o'clock. But no later, got it?"

"Got it. Thank you so much, Mr. McPhee."

" _Doctor_."

"Sorry. _Doctor_ ," Brooke corrected.

"Mhmm. Just be here."

She walked out of the office, relieved. _Well, that turned out better than I expected. I bet this job might even be kinda fun.  
_

Oh, she had no idea.

 **I hope you liked the ending for that chapter! That's always been one of my favorite ways to write, and it's become sort of a trademark for me. I know you're probably just here for the story, but if you have any thoughts on it, please comment; it makes my day and inspires me to continue writing.  
**


	7. Chapter 7 - Night at the Museum

With a gym bag packed full of fun ways to pass the time, Brooke closed her camera after her extensive video tour of the penthouse and carefully tucked it in her bag, walking out her guestroom door with confidence. She looked over to the main entrance and saw Will heading out the door to go home.

"Hey, excuse me, Will, I hope it's not too much to ask, but will you drive me to the museum again?"

"Sorry, I really gotta take care of some things."

"Oh. I understand."

"Here, I'll tell you what." He reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and selected a few bills for her to use. "This oughta get you there and back. Take care." He smiled.

"Thanks!"

"Don't mention it."

* * *

A cab pulled up to the museum. It was already half an hour from sunset, and Brooke stepped out with a nervous expression. _Looks like I'm pretty late, and it's the first night. Not good. Maybe McPhee will forgive me. He seemed to really like me, so hopefully he won't be too mad._ She walked into the revolving doors.

"Well, look who's _right on time_ ," McPhee sneered.

"I'm really sorry. It won't happen again."

"You'd better hope not." He looked at his watch. "Alright, Rebecca, you can leave." The docent stepped out from behind the desk.

"Goodnight, Dr. McPhee."

"Goodnight." He waved as she left the building, then turned back to Brooke.

"She works the day shift here. She'll stay here until you arrive. Don't keep her waiting next time, _huh_?"

Brooke nodded shakily.

"Well, I don't have time to show you around everywhere, so we'll just cover the most important areas." He started to walk briskly to the left hallway, signaling Brooke to come along. She followed closely behind. "Remember to keep the lights on." They headed to the right and kept walking until they entered what looked like some sort of break room.

"This is the locker room. Your locker is right here." He opened a locker with a few shabby pieces of paper taped to the side, ripped them off and handed them to Brooke. "Your instructions."

Brooke took a glimpse at the papers. They were very old and obviously were prevoiusly owned by the old night guard. There were notes scribbled beside each of the instructions, but a significant portion of the words were unintelligible. _Why would he hand me this?_

"Since tonight is your first night, I will be grading you on how well you perform," he informed sternly. "I'll be here early in the morning to.. examine things. If I find that you are nightguard material, you get to keep the job."

"I thought you said I would be perfect for the job?"

"I did. You _would_ be perfect for the job. But..."

"But what?"

"That doesn't mean you will..."

"W-what do you mean by that?"

"...You'll see. Now, If I am not satisfied with how you managed things..." He didn't finish his sentence but Brooke nodded as though she understood. The idea of being tested frightened her. "Let's carry on, shall we?" He handed the tools over as he called them out. "Your keys.. your flashlight... and your suit. Head right through the corridor, the bathrooms will to your right."

She nodded, temporarily laying her tools on a desk beside her, and walked out of the room. She came back in a buttoned midnight blue shirt and pants. McPhee was waiting for her when she returned. "Alright, let's go..."

She grabbed her keys and flashlight and followed him out the door into the main hall. McPhee noticed the golden glow of the sunset outside the tinted windows.

"No, no, no..."

"What is it?" Brooke gasped.

"I- I've, uh, got somewhere to be."

"But, what about the tour?"

"Forget the tour! There's-I-eh-a map on the desk! I've got to leave!" he shouted as he scurried out the main entrance.

 _Wow. Busy guy._

She headed back into the break room _. I really should start looking for that new wing, but this place is freaking awesome! Mini Fridge, Microwave, sink, snack machine, TV, DVD Player, PlayStation 3... PLAYSTATION 3! I guess he really trusts his employees..._

She rummaged through the DVDs and games sitting in a box by the television. _Hmm... Motorcycle Racing, not for me... Call of Duty, meh, not right now... Kingdom Hearts- Kingdom Hearts!_ Memories of her and her brother sitting on the couch on their PS2, wasting the hours away, flooded her mind. She plucked the disc out of the case with care, inserting the game and powering the console. After hearing the _'nostalgic, beautiful piano ballad that only a true masterpiece can offer'_ , she heard loud noises coming from elsewhere in the building.

 _Seriously? It has to be NOW when I have to deal with burglars? And within a few minutes of actually starting the job? I can see why McPhee was eager to leave the place..._

Evidently, fear struck her. It was then she realized she was unequipped with weapons.

 _I guess they don't trust new employees with weapons. Maybe I'll run across a wax figure with a sword or something... I think I saw Teddy Roosevelt holding one at the entrance._

She carefully crept out into the corridor, shining her flashlight in various places, but seeing nothing out of the ordinary. She peered around the corner of the main hall, and shined the light throughout the room.

 _Wait, where's the dinosaur... And Teddy Roosevelt... How the hell is someone able to steal 2 tons of bones in that amount of time?!_

She walked into the main room and searched every corner. Nothing but the big, spinning globe, the circular front desk, and the platforms where Teddy with his horse and the dino once stood were present. Her apprehensive look faded, and she smirked.

 _Oh, I get it, I bet he pulls this prank all the time, to scare off the weaklings. Well, I'm not so easily fooled. But, I do have to admit, this is very well executed._

She began to head back to the break room, wiping her brow. As almost reached the hallway, she felt the ground trembling beneath her feet. She slowly turned around...

"Eeeeeeek!"

The twenty-foot-tall dinosaur skeleton was standing before her. Moving. Thinking. Apparently breathing; its breath smelled awful. As she stood frozen in fear, eyes wide in horror, the dinosaur marched towards her. She couldn't move. She couldn't blink. She couldn't speak. All she could do was accept her fate.

Once the dinosaur approached, he slightly nudged her.

"What..."

Without thinking twice, she started to pet the strange creature on the nose.

"Niiiiice dog...dinosaur... skeleton... thing.."

He lowered his back and began to wag his tail. He stomped over to the other side of the room as Brooke watched in awe, grabbing a bone with his mouth, his tail swinging around and knocking over a desk lamp in the process. He returned and dropped the bone in front of her.

 _This thing isn't a hologram,_ _it isn't animatronic_ _, this thing is alive. It's gigantic, ferocious, and... it wants to play fetch?_

* * *

 **I'll leave writer's notes underneath that little bar ↑ when I publish a new chapter, so those will be underneath my most recent chapters. Anyway, thanks for reading, and once again, please share your thoughts on the story!**


	8. Chapter 8 - Where History Comes To Life

"Okay, here goes..." Brooke threw the heavy bone as far as she could across the reception hall, and as the skeleton ran after it, she darted through the hallway, just avoiding the whip of his tail, and into the break room, sorting through the keys and barely managing to fit the key in the slot as her fingers shook intensely. She slumped to the floor.

 _No way._

Hearing muffled commotion from the halls, she scooted up against the wall, holding her knees to her chest. Her eyes were wide; not in horror, not in fear, but disbelief. She saw, through a small square window on the door, a few figures moving past the room.

 _Are those... more exhibits?!_

She slowly stood and walked toward the door. She gaped at the sight of these exhibits, man and beast alike, appearing to be searching for something. A neanderthal noticed the head peering through the break room window, then jumped excitedly and pointed, vocalizing and motioning a few other exhibits to investigate. She backed from the window, intimidated by all the strange faces. The door handle shook and she backed up slowly to the wall.

 _Are they going to hurt me? Do they think I'm one of them?_

Suddenly, a voice boomed from the hallway.

"Back away," the voice demanded. The exhibits did as the voice asked.

"Thank you." A familiar head popped in view and examined the situation.

"W-whaa..." Brooke gasped. She could still hear the voice from inside the break room. "It.. it can't be..."

He spoke swiftly and his voice rang with authority. "Look what you've done, you've startled her to death. Why, you ought to be ashamed of yourselves. We had a strategy. Leslie and I very well established that." He turned away from the crowd. "Or so I thought."

The exhibits hung their heads in shame, namely the neanderthal who had prompted this sort of reaction. This brought great relief to Brooke. And _a lot_ of questions.

"I would highly recommend for you all to wait in the entrance hall," he demanded in a tone that clearly implied he meant more than _recommend._ The exhibits started to depart. "Except you, Ahkmenrah. You and I have quite a lot of explaining to do."

* * *

The atmosphere was calm, and Brooke had finally sat down, after a few minutes of intense thought and pacing. She wondered when the president and the Egyptian would attempt to interact with her. She could hear them quietly conversing outside, knowing that at some point she would have to face them. She was just unsure of how to go about it. The whole concept left her bewildered and awestruck, to say the least. _How many people get to meet a DEAD President?_

They peered through the window in unison. "Alright, she seems to be sober. I'll go in first, to avoid intimidating her any further." The young Egyptian backed away from the door.

The president cautiously knocked on the door, allowing his face to be seen through the glass window and offering a reassuring smile. Brooke stood up and slowly unlocked the door.

"Umm, hi," she beamed.

"May I come in?"

She nodded enthusiastically as he entered. He extended his hand as Brooke gladly accepted.

"Theodore Roosevelt, twenty-sixth president of these United States, at your service."

"Wow, I... I don't know what to say..."

"That's okay," Teddy chuckled. "Take all the time you need."

"It... it's great to meet you!" She held her hands to her mouth in awe.

"As with you, lass. Now what might be your name?"

"Oh, um," she said, taking a deep breath in attempt to calm down. "I'm Brooklyn Mendosa, but I go by Brooke."

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Brooklyn. I'm sure we'll get along just fine."

"I just have one question..."

"What might that be?" he questioned, smiling.

"Umm... how..."

Teddy turned and opened the door, motioning a young pharaoh to enter the room. The pharaoh looked regal and well-respected. He was holding a golden tablet with nine pieces in the center, each engraved with a symbol, tightly to his chest.

"This is King Ahkmenrah," Teddy explained, pointing to the golden tablet the Pharaoh was holding so close to himself. "He owns this tablet."

Brooke studied the tablet in confusion.

"Go on," Teddy whispered, slightly nudging Ahkmenrah with his elbow.

The king hesitantly spoke up. "Every night, at sundown, this tablet..." his voice was cracking, and he did not make eye contact. "Ahem. This tablet brings the exhibits to life."

Teddy looked at Ahkmenrah with a worried expression. Meanwhile, Brooke was hopping gleefully. After she composed herself, she noticed the two leaders had left the room.

 _Oh no... I freaked them out, didn't I!_ She face-palmed.

Little did she know they were only right outside the door.

"Ahkmenrah, what seems to be the trouble?"

"I..." He sighed. "I do not know."

"Nonsense!" Teddy replied. "I can tell when a man is hiding something, especially you, lad."

Ahkmenrah hesitated, still avoiding eye contact. "I am just tired. I- I think I will go back to my sarcophagus."

Teddy could not conceal his disappointment. The young king had been so happy to return to the museum just a week before. What could possibly be plaguing the poor pharaoh?

"Very well." He gave his friend a final pat on the back as he returned to the break room.

"Oh, thank God," Brooke exclaimed with relief. "I thought you had left..."

"Of course not!" Teddy responded. "I apologize for everything; I assure you, we mean you no harm. A lot has transpired since the return of the tablet."

"Return? Hold on... I don't understand."

"Oh, that's right." He thought for a moment, noticing the uneasiness in Brooke's eyes. "I'm sure you would like to meet some of the other exhibits."

"Of course!" The spark returned to her eyes as they departed.

* * *

 **Here's chapter 8! I hope you like it! I typed it all in one go, which is probably one of the reasons why the quality is a lot better.** ** **I may continue to do that if time permits.** I tried a lot harder in this chapter, knowing that this is where some of the characters come in. Sorry that it's short, but I thought that part would be a good conclusion and would lead well into the next chapter. Hopefully the quality makes up for it :). We finally got to the exhibits! Hope you liked my portrayals of Ahk and Teddy! I also hope Brooke's reaction was ok! That was the most difficult part of this chapter to write! I tried to show another side of things, rather that just focusing on Brooke's perspective. Anyway, thanks for reading, and, as always, if you like then please do review, favorite and follow! **

**I must give some credit to arwenishtar! She's helped my writing immensely :)**


	9. Chapter 9 - In the Shadows

Hey! Sorry it's been so long, I had exams this week so I had to focus my energy on that. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

* * *

Ahk was sitting at one of the birch chairs in his exhibit, holding close the artifact that was so dear to him. The room had been turned into a small conference room after the London adventure, and was in the process of being restored for the Pharaoh, but it displeased him nonetheless. He figured he should not complain, for he was overjoyed to return to New York and settle in his old home. But even the loyal jackals who once guarded him had been sent to the Federal Archives in the Smithsonian. It wasn't really home anymore.

Attila was in one of the chairs next to him. The two had grown close, especially since Ahk was the only one (besides the other Huns, of course) who could speak his language. The king had become sort of a role model for Attila, who was determined to change his ways. The tablet mesmerized him, and it was as if he was almost as close to it as Ahk was himself.

" _Please, Ahkmenrah, tell me what's wrong. It would do you good to express your feelings, and it is obvious there is something bothering you."_

Ahk thought for a moment, biting his lip. He then looked into Attila's eyes sincerely _. "The Tablet... it senses a threat."_

Attila was deeply concerned, but trying to avoid causing his friend more anxiety, did his best to look calm. _"A threat to what?"_

 _"That I do not know. To the magic, to me, to the museum..."_

 _"How do you even know that there is a threat?"_

Ahkmenrah reluctantly released his most prized possession, which he had clutched tightly to his chest, handing it over to Attila for a proper examination.

 _"You-you may notice it is glowing slightly. And not how it normally does."_ He had his hands outstretched far past the moment he offered his tablet to the Hun, then propped his head up with his elbows rested on the table.

Attila squinted his eyes and pored over the artifact _. "I don't really see anything different."_

" _Of course, having been in its presence for over four thousand years,"_ he added _, "one might have more easily noticed such a subtle change_."

Attila let out a slight gasp. _"I think I see now. It almost looks like it is glowing red."_

 _"Exactly. My father warned me of this..."_ His eyes wandered away from Attila _. "_ _Though I never assumed it would actually happen."_ He sat quietly for a moment, stroking one of his armbands as Attila continued to examine the tablet. _  
_

" _What about your brother_?" Attila inquired, looking over at the tense Pharaoh. " _He was obviously a threat_."

" _I was not in the vicinity of my Tablet at the time. I was dead; how could I have sensed something was wrong? Besides, the warning spell my father had put on the Tablet had not been cast until I arrived at London_."

Attila nodded. _"When did you notice it was glowing that way?"_

 _"This evening, I woke up with a sense of dread. At first, I could not think of any reasonable cause... Then I remembered what my father had told me while I was in London, and I immediately checked my Tablet."_ He paused momentarily, staring blankly at the light wooden table in front of them, then continued slowly. _"As I held my Tablet, I felt a strange sensation, which confirmed my fears. I went to Teddy, to see if he could give me some advice, but the new night guard had arrived. I did not want her to notice the tablet glowing this way, as I thought it might frighten her, or make her think negatively of me. Teddy was obviously occupied, so I requested that I be excused."_

Attila handed Ahkmenrah the tablet, and the two sat in silence for a while, each left to his own thoughts.

 _"Is there anything you can think of that has happened between last night and tonight?"_ Attila asked.

 _"Not that I know of."_ Ahk stared at the golden tablet he had laid on the table in front of him and sighed. _"Now, of all times. I was so excited to explain the powers of my tablet. Now... now I do not know what to think."_

 _"Ahkmenrah, I know Teddy always takes the lead, but you're the keeper of this tablet, the very thing that brings us to life in the first place. Y_ _ _ou'll ultimately be the one to make sure that this transition goes smoothly. You can't stay in here forever._ The entire museum depends on you."  
_

" _That is what I was afraid of_."

Regarding the obvious dread in his Egyptian friend, Attila comforted him by gently placing his strong hand on Ahk's cloaked shoulder.

" _Ahkmenrah, I'm sure you have learned a lot from your parents. No one has the knowledge you do, or the capacity to use it for evil. I'm sure you'd know what to do if something bad happened_."

Ahkmenrah looked back up at Attila, with a slight smile. " _I suppose you're right._ " Placing the artifact on the table, he stood up for the embrace he'd come to expect from the Hun.

" _Feel better?_ " Attila said, releasing his tight grip on the Pharaoh.

" _Much, thank you_ ," Ahk replied, catching his breath.

The two then began clearing a few boxes from the exhibit, unaware of the spectator lurking in the shadows, who'd heard and understood every word.

* * *

Hope you liked this chapter! 'Twas a pretty crucial chapter, so I spent a lot of time on it, even though it's pretty short. I'll do my best to make up for all these short ones in the next chapter! This one was exciting to write, too, so I hope you find it as interesting as I do! I'm sure that will be the same for chapter 10! Thanks for reading, and as always, please follow, fave and review!

Update: Sorry I couldn't get Ch. 10 up this weekend. I hope to have it up sometime this week!


	10. Chapter 10 - Guardian of Brooklyn

"So, what brings you to this institution?" Teddy questioned, watching as the teen beamed at the sight of the living, breathing wax figures and stuffed animals they passed in the hallway.

"Well, um, I got a job here." Quite frankly, she was a bit distracted. Every little thing around her captured her interest. There were people from all places and periods of time: Pilgrims, Inuits, even Australian aborigines. A few of the figures eyed her suspiciously; others whispered among their groups and smiled.

"Well," Teddy chuckled, "I'm aware of that. I meant, what gave you the motivation to take this post?"

"Oh, um..." She hesitated. "Well, I just love history, and-"

"Splendid! I'm sure you'll fit right in, then." For Brooke, it was a rather encouraging and welcoming statement. Pieces of guilt from her true motive were being buried by the wonder and majesty emanating from the night.

"Are you alright?"

"Oh, oh, um, yes. I just.. wow."

Teddy couldn't hide his smile. Things were going better than he'd originally thought. But, of course, the night was just beginning.

"Teddy!" A feminine voice rang from the other end of the hallway.

"Sacagawea!" Teddy shouted, speeding up but not exactly running as Brooke tried to keep pace.

"Wait... _the_ Sacagawea! The one who assisted Lewis and Clark on their expedition?"

"That's the one," the president responded, clearly more focused on the matter at hand. Brooke noticed a sense of urgency in the Shoshone woman's movements.

"What seems to be the trouble," Teddy asked.

"It's the Mayans," Sacagawea said as she approached the President.

"Oh good heavens, not again. I thought you locked them up!"

"I thought _you_ locked them up!"

"In case you weren't aware, I was just doing my duty, like I've always done. Anyway, how hard must it be to settle a minor dispute?"

"Why don't I just _show_ you this ' _minor_ dispute.'"

The two walked briskly through the reception hall and up the steps. Brooke, having absolutely no idea what was going on, simply followed, and bravely spoke once they reached the top.

"Um, what's happening here?"

Sighing, he turned to face the teen. "I'm not entirely certain myself, Brooklyn, but we're about to find out."

They approached a wide doorway. Teddy held up his hand, silently ordering the two females behind him to halt. He then backed to the wall and slowly made his way to the edge of the doorway, trying to observe the room without being acknowledged. Sacagawea peered in behind him.

Brooke could hear the two whispering, but couldn't understand what they were saying. Though she was tall, Teddy's large hat blocked her view. She tried peering her head around the two others.

 _I wish I could see what was going on._

She shuffled her feet around Sacagawea, and before she knew it, she had tripped and fallen on the hard marble floor, directly in front of the entrance. She barely had time to register the scene in front of her when she felt dozens of sharp, painful, burning sensations in her face and arms. Her eyes welled up and everything before her became a dizzy, blurred mess.

"D'oh! That's it! You've crossed the line! Get 'em, boys!"

"Attack!"

Her eyes closed, and she felt only the throbbing pain in her forehead and heard only the sounds of battle, which were growing more distant. The muffled commotion dissolved into a ringing sound, and, unable to speak or move, Brooke finally submitted to the exhaustion she felt within her.

* * *

Brooke laid unconscious on the couch in the break room. Sacagawea was leaning over her, carefully plucking out each dart one by one.

"They must have added some sort of poison to the darts," she commented, applying an herbal salve over a wound.

"I bet _that's_ what they've been up to those past couple years," Jed remarked.

"I'm serious. Someone could have been hurt. These darts could have easily killed one of your men."

Jed looked down grievously. Her words were true, however much they stung.

"Is she going to be alright?" asked Octavius, moving his head in an attempt to get a glimpse of the injured girl behind Sacagawea.

"Oh, yes," Sacagawea replied reassuringly, "She will be fine. The poison isn't enough to cause her any major harm. She should be waking up soon."

Teddy entered the room, temporarily lifting his hat to wipe his brow.

"Did you have any success?" Sacagawea questioned.

"Some. Fortunately, there were no casualties, only minor injuries from the battle."

Both miniature leaders took a deep sigh of relief. They wouldn't have been able to forgive themselves if any of their people were lost.

"As for the Mayans," Teddy explained, "we managed to lock most of them up. Unfortunately, a few are missing. The Romans have organized a small search party for them."

"Hopefully we will find them soon," replied Sacagawea. "Maybe they won't be so hostile toward the other exhibits."

"Yes, and hopefully, in smaller numbers, they won't be quite a nuisance."

"They never learn." Jed said, finally sitting down on the edge of the coffee table beside his friend.

Before Sacagawea could remove the last dart, she heard a faint groan.

"I think she's waking up." Sacagawea backed away from the waking girl. Teddy rushed to the couch where she laid, the two miniatures standing up, not knowing what to anticipate.

"Ugh, what happened..."

"Quite a lot," Teddy replied, smiling.

"You tripped and fell," Sacagawea calmly explained, sitting down beside her. "You were attacked. But you'll be fine. Now hold still." She reached over and carefully pulled out the last dart, prompting a small cry of pain, then once again rubbing the salve on the wound.

"Ah! What _is_ that?" She grabbed the dart out of Sacagawea's hand, and examined it. It resembled a toothpick. Sacagawea was silent, soaking a cloth in a small bowl of water and wringing out the water.

"Here." The Indian woman offered the cloth. Brooke gently rubbed the soaked cloth over her eyes, her face covered in sores. As she set the cloth on the table, she noticed the two miniatures in front of her. She blinked and rubbed her eyes, not sure of what to make of the small men before her. Both looked slightly nervous.

The cowboy spoke up, tipping his hat. "Name's Jedediah. And.. and this here's my buddy Octavius." The Roman beside him bowed, holding his fist to his chest.

Brooke's eyes widened. "Wait a minute... that voice... I think I remember now. You... you were the ones who attacked me!" She pointed her finger accusingly.

"Woah, woah, woah, don' just jump to conclusions now!" Jedediah shouted, backing up.

"We were only trying to help!" Octavius explained.

Brooke looked at the two larger figures, seeking confirmation.

"It's true," Teddy assured, coming to stand beside Sacagawea. "They were not the offenders. They are on _our_ side."

"Oh." Brooke looked to the floor shamefully. "I'm sorry."

Teddy moved to sit beside her. "Your accusations were understandable. We were confused as well, on the night we first awoke. It took some getting used to."

"Our apologies for frightening you." Octavius said officially, walking towards the edge of the table. "We did our best to stop them, but unfortunately there's a bit of a language barrier between us and them."

"Yeah," Jed agreed, "but hopefully now they know we mean business. They should get the idea." He put his hand to one of his gun holsters.

Brooke smiled widely. She hadn't seen them in their frozen states, but honestly, what other explanation could there be? The tablet brings even _them_ to life! These little guys were adorable, especially the cowboy. Of course, she kept that to herself.

Jed pointed to something behind the others, causing them to look back at the door, which was slowly being opened by none other than Ahkmenrah. He was visibly nervous, but smiling all the same. He still had his tablet in his embrace.

"Is this the proper time?"

"Certainly, my boy!" Teddy said, coming closer to meet the young Egyptian. He continued quietly. "We were beginning to get a bit worried. Are you alright?"

"Oh yes, Teddy, I am fine. I just needed some rest."

Strange. He's never needed to rest during the night.

" _Alright_ , then. Let's continue where we left off, shall we?" He led Ahkmenrah to the couch, where a young woman was waiting, eager to hear the tale of his most prized possession. A possession all his own, that astounded and amused everyone it met. To this day, it still brought him joy. And heartache.

Ahk eagerly sat down beside Brooke. They all made themselves comfortable, as if they thought they'd be hearing this story for the first time.

Teddy sat on an old beige armchair beside the table. "Allow me to _properly_ introduce us first. Ahkmenrah, this is Brooklyn. She'll be taking Lawrence's post. Brooklyn, this is Ahkmenrah-"

"Fourth King of the Fourth King, ruler of the land of my father's." He spoke regally, but his expression was indiscernible as he stared at the marble floor beneath him. No one knew what to expect from the king. Only Teddy and Brooke were aware of his strange behavior earlier that night.

"Excuse me? Ahkmenrah?" Brooke waved a hand in front of his face. "Are you okay?"

A wide smile was evident as he turned his gaze upon the new guard. "Brooklyn..." He chuckled. " _Guardian of Brooklyn_..."

* * *

Yay! I'm so glad I got this chapter finished! This one was rather tricky, as there were a lot of factors in the story. I'm somewhat proud of how it turned out. I hope I'm characterizing everyone well! Forgive me if I have a little historical inaccuracy, I only went by my knowledge this chapter. As a writer I am fueled by feedback, so if you have the time, please review! I can't wait for chapter 11!

Update 2: I'm gonna get chapter 11 up, don't worry. It's in the making, but it's the end of my senior year and things are pretty complicated for me right now. I'm going through a hard time, but I'll get through it. I should be able to update more often when I'm out of school :) As for now, I don't know when I'll get the chapter up. Maybe this weekend. We'll see :) Nonetheless, thank you SO much for your patience!


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